In recent weeks I’ve been contacted by various music artists through various social medias (funny how the telephone is no longer one of them) to pick my brain for the millionth time on how to sell their wares/songs/nubile posteriors up the music industry food chain in the guise of a record deal or publishing deal or both.

It’s always in the form of sickly whining and the fetid scent of desperation wafts across the social media chasm with every single key stroke. “Why won’t anyone notice me?”

So what if you’ve got street cred? In the end it won’t buy you a sandwich or get you on the bus when you’re destitute from starving for your art. Ah, yes…the old sawhorse debate about commerce versus art. We artistic types spend a disproportionate amount of time protecting our creations. They’re our babies and can’t be nursed by anyone but us. In music, that means slaving over the writing and producing process until every last drop of ‘inspiration’ can be sweat out of the muse.